


A True Believer

by neil4god



Category: Inception (2010), Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines (2003), Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles
Genre: Arthur is a survivalist with serious military training, Arthur is from Texas, Bom shelters, Cobb's kids cry a lot, Completely AU, Confused Eames, Crossover, Derek is Alive!, End of the World, F/M, Gun Collection, Kate Brewster does not exist, Kind of a character study ish, M/M, Oneshot, Paranoid Arthur, Post-Apocolyptic World, SCC characters set in T3 basically, Sadly no porn, Sarah has gun envy, Savannah is with the Connors, Very little dialogue (so not like me!)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:16:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil4god/pseuds/neil4god
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur tried to move on with his life, he had friends and work (illegal but hey, it's a living!), but he just couldn't let it go. It was a gnawing in his bones that kept him up at night. He had to be prepared and sure he'd look silly if anyone ever found out, but no-one had to know. He could live his normal life and just pretend he wasn't a crazy person building a bomb shelter for when the machines try to take over the world.</p><p>This is a short little piece about how sometimes when you're being paranoid, you're not really crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A True Believer

**Author's Note:**

> Head cannon -  
> John Connor is at Crystal Peak with his family (Cameron, Derek - still alive cause I say so!, Sarah & Savannah) when Judgement Day comes.  
> Arthur grew up with a military extremist father who knew Sarah and believed that Skynet would destroy the world.
> 
> It's been in my head and I had to get it out so here goes.

Thing is, his dad was a believer, hard core down to the marrow zealot. He grew up off the grid learning skills most adults didn’t have, how to fight smart, pick locks, hack systems. He was brought up to never trust anyone, to fight his own battles and always win. He was raised to be a soldier, his dad made sure of that. His dad taught him every trick he ever learned and when he didn’t know something, he found someone who did. By the time Arthur was sixteen he was better trained than a Navy Seal. He spoke eight languages fluently and had the basics of four more. He could hide in plain sight or create a new identity from scratch. When his dad died he took things easy, used his skills to get a good job, worked his way up the ranks to become the best. He was the best point man out there and everyone knew it. There was a reason his rates were so high and he took pride in that. He knew his dad would probably pitch a fit because he wasn’t doing anything for the cause but he was a grown ass man and he would live his own life. 

He still kept an eye out though, he tracked any strange patterns in the news, kept tabs on all the hottest technology and when he saved up enough money he let himself be paranoid. It was dumb, he knew that. It was dumb and a complete waste of money, but he had millions of dollars sitting in a bank account in the Ceyman Islands and this didn’t even use a fraction of that, so he let himself go wild. He designed it himself, not wanting anyone else to know the layout or see the plans. He got help occasionally from Cobb and some others (not that any of them knew that), when it came time to build he decided to be a crazy person and use several different contractors with no idea what they were building. It was paranoid and excessive but there was this niggling worry at the back of his brain that he wouldn’t let him stop. He had to do this. 

He knew before it happened. He called Eames and told him to get on the first flight to California, there was a job he was needed on. Then he called Cobb and invited him to bring the kids for the weekend. When he tried to refuse, Arthur told him he’d already bought the tickets and told the kids. Sure enough Philippa badgered him into it without Arthur having to lift a finger. He tried the others, but Yusuf wouldn’t answer his calls and Ariadne was still bitter after the break up (he was an asshole who deserved everything she said to him, but he didn’t want her to die dammit!). When she wouldn’t come he told her to stay safe and get underground. He hopes she listened. He made one last run to the store before they arrived. He bought everything he could fit into the truck. Perishable and non-perishable, tools, books, anything that could be useful afterwards. The guy in the store thought he was nuts, but Arthur was used to that. People used to look at his dad like that too. 

Eames was waiting for him at the house, scruff thicker than usual and his typical smile a frown, “What the fuck Arthur there’s no job!”  
This was it, this was their last chance to do something about the electricity between them and Arthur wasn’t going to let an argument get in the way of that. In three steps he was in Eames’ personal space, hands running up his arms, desperate to touch. Eames seemed surprised by the kiss, hesitant at first, then leaning in closer, broad hands wrapping around him and dragging him close. It was sloppy and his beard burned his skin but it didn’t matter. This was Eames and he was all Arthur had ever wanted. 

They brought in the bags together later, much later. Arthur pulled up the hidden door in the kitchen floor and laughed at Eames’ raised brow and hushed, “Really darling?”  
It became less incredulous and more concerned as he led him down and into the underground base. It went on for acres, deep underneath the Californian soil. There were rooms and room of survivalist materials, pre-packed backpacks, cans of non-perishable goods, huge bottles of clean water. One section of the base was cunningly designed to grow vegetables and plants. Arthur had been nurturing them for more than two years, quietly reaping his crop, content to know he would have a sustainable food source. Eames stopped outside the weapons room, it was twice the size of the vegetable garden (and that was considerable), Arthur had it fully stocked with more weapons than a paranoid arms dealer being busted. Handguns, shotguns, grenades, rocket launchers, chemical weapons, EMP’s and that didn’t count the knives and swords that were scattered across the walls. It was an arsenal his dad would be proud of. Eames was looking at him like he was crazy though, too English to appreciate the gung-ho nature of a natural born Texan. He stayed quiet though, dragging Arthur’s purchases across the base and into the appropriate areas. They barely had the hatch door closed and the front bell was ringing. Arthur grabbed the shotgun from under the sink and cautiously approached the door. There was an extended peep hole, kinda’ like a periscope but less obvious, next to the door. A quick glance showed Cobb and the two little ones, now 10 and 7 respectively. He tossed the shotgun to Eames and winced when the man fumbled the catch. They would have to work on that. Ushering the newcomers inside he blocked their view while Eames hid the gun and Cobb hugged him too tight. He felt better having them here, knowing they would be ok. 

The bomb dropped early in the morning, the blast hundreds of miles away but still close enough to shake the dirt off the house. It startled Eames awake, but Arthur had been awake for hours, watching the other man sleep. This was their last true moment of peace and he hadn’t wanted to waste it. Bleary eyed and startled Eames hopped out of the bed, hissing as his feet hit the cold floorboards. Arthur went through his mental list one last time checking he had everything. It wouldn’t do to forget anything, not now. Eames had turned on the telly and was checking through the news channels while Cobb hushed the two screaming children. It wouldn’t do any good, not now. They weren’t kids anymore. The screaming stopped when Eames finally found a station that was still broadcasting. The images were grainy and dull, the newscaster clearly dishevelled and terrified, her words stuttering and aborted as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The military bases were all hit first, taking out our defences, then came the civilian attacks. According to the reporter this was happening worldwide. Bombs were falling and no-one knew why. Well, not no-one. Arthur knew. They watched until the next blast rocked the house on its foundations. The tv went blank, the reporter’s scream cut off abruptly. Calmer than the others, (which was really starting to freak Eames out) he led them all into the kitchen and down down down into the base. It was deeper than he was typically comfortable with and the kids felt the same, but it was necessary. The further they were from the surface, the safer they were. He locked them in and led them to a sitting room or sorts. There were couches and beanbags, soft furnishings and warm blankets. It was a modern bomb shelter with all modern conveniences, (run on a separate generator) provided those conveniences hadn’t been created in the twenty first century. The ice boxes were practically dinosaurs and the only form of communication was a CB radio. It was crackling wildly, the noise hiding Phillipa’s sobbing breaths. 

He let them settle in, Eames sprawled on the couch clutching a blanket and looking shell shocked while Cobb tried to soothe the children. It didn’t work. They were terrified and rightly so. Their world was ending and there wasn’t anything they could do to stop it. The crackle became less of a crackle and soon a voice emerged over the waves. “Who’s in charge there?”  
He hired the volume, listening desperately for something, and then he heard it “I am.”  
He knew that voice, knew it in his bones, in the very heart of his being. The next moment confirmed it, “Connor can you help us?”  
He felt his knees go weak under him, stumbling back onto the couch and reaching blindly for the radio. Grabbing it tightly in his fist he pressed down hard and interjected, “John, John it’s Arthur. Are you there?”  
The man on the other line, military probably, tried to interrupt them, asserting his dominance, but he didn’t have any, not anymore. He waited impatiently for the John to answer, letting out a whoosh of breath when he finally did, “Arthur you’re ok?”  
“I’m fine. I’m safe. You need to come here John, I have everything ready. You need to come home.”  
The soldier tried to interrupt again, pleading for their help, “We’re under attack Connor. Can you help us?”  
Eames came up behind him, wrapping strong arms around Arthur’s torso and Arthur let himself cry just this once. This wasn’t what he wanted. His dad was crazy and it was all supposed to be pretend. None of this should have happened, his dad had given his life to ensure Judgement Day never came to pass. Arthur sobbed quietly and let himself feel for the first time in years the pain of his loss. The part of himself that had urged him into building this shelter, that had made him stockpile weapons and food told him to suck it up and he would. He would. When John answered he had himself under control again, shuddering slightly in Eames’ embrace. “Alright Arthur tell me where you are.”  
It was a command, hard and uncompromising and Arthur obeyed instantly. 

It took nearly three weeks for John to make it to the bunker. He brought other survivors with him, a small red head girl for the kids to play with, his mother a detective and a machine. Arthur had a gun to her face before he even realised it. The metal smiled at him, bright and cheerful, “He has very good instincts John. How did you know what I was?” Arthur’s eyes flickered from her to John and back again. If she was with John then she couldn’t be a hostile, but it made his skin itch having her there. “I’ve known John all my life and I know metal when I see it.”  
She looked between them curious, finally John told her, “Arthur and I grew up together. His father was attacked by a Terminator, he wanted to make sure it never happened again, so he found us. We trained together, roamed around the country together for years. Arthur’s my point man.” Arthur watched her assimilate the data, her mind working faster than a humans ever could, “This is The Point Man, your strategist and confidante? I never met him, he didn’t like metal and he was the only person you wouldn’t ignore.”  
Sarah laughed loudly at that and smirked at him then went to inspect the weapons stash, muttering to Derek, “God I love that kid. Look at this place Derek. We can lead a real resistance from here.”  
He watched Derek look around the place, noting the entrances to each section of the base, before he leaned in close to Sarah, “This is it, this is John Connor’s base. Only in my time, he didn’t find it until the war was halfway over. With all this Sarah, we stand a chance, a real chance.”  
God he hoped so, that was he had built the bloody place. They were here and they would do everything they could to end this war, and if that meant trusting metal, well he believed in John Connor.


End file.
